The Wolf (Under the Northern Sky #1)

by Leo Carew

Later, Pryce left the fireside and headed for the outer rim of the camp. He collected a thick leather roll of supplies: bleached linen strips, phials of vinegar in which betony had been soaked, spools of silk and catgut thread, curved steel needles, four tweezers (two needle-nosed, two flat-nosed), several leather tourniquets and a sharp knife. He skirted the camp perimeter, raising a hand to the sentries who hailed him, and soon found Gray staring out into an ink-black night. The moon and stars had vanished without trace behind dense cloud. “Old fool,” Pryce said irritably. “What?” “Show me your leg.” Gray lifted his chain-mail skirt to reveal a jagged wound in his thigh; deep and clotted thickly with blood. “Sit,” commanded Pryce. Gray sat, stretching out the injured leg before him, and Pryce began to clean it with a linen cloth, soaked in the betony vinegar. “How did you get this?”